Tea at the Crossroads
by Becca Stareyes
Summary: Zelgadis drifts into a teashop looking for a drink and a direction. Iroh gives him both. Fusion, Evo-R spoilers.


Written for the first (Spring 2010) round of 'A Ficathon Walks into a Bar' (intoabar at LJ or Dreamwidth). My prompt was 'Zelgadis Greywords walks into a bar and met... Iroh'. Then I changed it to a teashop. Anyway, this is technically set in the same universe as "None So Blind", another fic I wrote, but ten years later. There are no characters in common, unless you count the fact this fic mentions Rezo and "None So Blind" starred Rezo, so all you really know is that it's a Slayers/A:tLA fusion and the canon ages of the A:tLA cast were fixed to be about a decade before the present time in the Slayers universe. (So, Iroh is more like 75 than 65 -- then again, both Slayers and A:tLA have had old folks, especially the more mystically inclined, be long-lived badasses, so he's not feeling his age that much.) There's a brief method to Zuko being old enough to have reproduced, but shippers take note, I don't actually mention who the mother is.

* * *

It was a bit after midafternoon when Zelgadis arrived, parched and dusty, in town. Thanks to a rockfall, the route he had wanted to take was blocked off and the detours had taken time. He had planned to be in the next town before sundown, but that wasn't going to happen. Given the unstable terrain, camping wouldn't be safe along the route, meaning he would have to stop for the night. His last job, bodyguarding Amelia, had left him with plenty of coin, so money wasn't a worry.

It was such that found Zelgadis, after stowing most of his supplies in an inn room, entering the Jasmine Dragon teashop.

The shop was surprisingly cool after the day's heat, and smelled of spices Zelgadis couldn't quote place. No one was working in front, but the sound of the door hitting the bell hanging from the doorframe brought an old man out from the back room. "Welcome. Please, have a seat. You caught me at a bit of a lull, so service may be a bit slow, I'm afraid."

Zelgadis nodded at the man, and sat down at one of the tables. The man hadn't reacted to his appearance, though Zelgadis still had his hood up and his scarf pulled over his mouth and nose. Considering how dusty the road had been, it probably wasn't unusual for travelers to show up with something protecting their faces. He'd have to get rid of the scarf at least to get something to drink, but he'd deal with that later.

There was a menu, made of thick paper warped by moisture and darkened around the edges, but still readable. Either the place was more upscale than Zelgadis had thought from outside, or the menu didn't change much. He scanned down the list, realizing that he didn't terribly care about what was in his tea at this point, besides water and tea leaves.

The old man walked over, politely waiting until Zelgadis had put the menu down. "What will it be?"

"Just plain tea, please." Zelgadis considered this further. "Do you have any chilled?" There had been a slate hanging outside advertising the availability of chilled tea, though the empty shop made Zelgadis wonder if the man had bothered to bring in ice out of wherever he kept it.

The old man nodded. "I set some to chill for the after-work rush. It still might be a bit warm, though."

Zelgadis raised a hand, dismissing this. "It's fine. Too cold wouldn't be good for me, anyway."

"I'll be right out with that, then." The old man headed to the back room, and Zelgadis used the excuse to take out a handkerchief and at least try to get some of the dust and sweat off his face. The early arrival into town meant he probably had time for a bath after dinner. That and some clean clothing would do a lot for the damned road dust, which had felt like it had gotten into everywhere.

The old man returned with a tray, on which were two glasses filled with tea, condensation beading on their surfaces, and a small plate of biscuits. Zelgadis glanced around, but the shop was still empty. The shopkeeper didn't seem to notice the look, as he set one glass in front of Zelgadis, and the tray down in front of the chair opposite. The old man then pulled out the chair and sat down. "I hope you don't mind. It was about time for my break."

Zelgadis stared at him. Was he angling for some kind of extra tip for being friendly, or was he just an old man who wanted company? By this time, sitting across from him, the old man had to notice that Zelgadis wasn't human, but he didn't seem to care.

Zelgadis took a swallow of the tea, which was about the right temperature and refreshing. He wasn't an expert, but it was good stuff, steeped to produce flavor without much bitterness. There were subtle hints to the taste that he couldn't quite place, and a sort of floral scent that made him wonder what was in it.

"Would you like a biscuit?" The old man nudged the plate. "No charge."

Zelgadis sighed and took one, as well as helping himself to some of the butter. "Thanks." The biscuits were a bit dry, but he had eaten worse on the road.

"Not a problem. They were yesterday's baking, so I was just going to bring them home at the end of the day. Better they get eaten than go to waste."

Zelgadis gave the old man another look. He didn't look that poorly off to need to bring home leftovers from work -- he was rather a stout person, and his clothing was neat and looked nearly new, if plain. But, perhaps he had survived a famine or something -- it made people funny about food. Zelgadis himself had to agree with the sentiment; thanks to poor planning (or, in one case, an unexpected sea trip), he had gone hungry several times.

"So, the old man said, sipping his tea, "what brings you to town?"

"Just passing through," Zelgadis answered. He didn't terribly feel like talking, but it would be polite, and he hadn't paid for his tea yet. Being short with his answers would discourage all but the most blowhard of people, and those he could just tune out while they enjoyed the sound of their own voices.

"Going anywhere in particular?"

"Not really." Which was half a lie. Normally he would have lined up destinations in advance, all places that promised miracle cures or magical artifacts, or even just libraries of rare books. On the way, he could probably find mercenary work -- few people wanted a lone swordsman, or a sorcerer not affiliated with any of the Sorcerers' Guilds, but Zelgadis had gotten good at figuring out who wasn't picky and which jobs were least likely to backfire in his face.

But Rezo's jar had changed that. More and more, he wondered what the point would be, if Rezo had said that nothing could return Zelgadis to the way he was. The part of Zelgadis that was still fifteen and reeling from finding out he had been Rezo's guinea pig insisted that Rezo had to be lying or just _wrong_. It had been the same voice that had drove him all these years, after so many disappointments, but it was getting harder to hear under the weight of years and failures.

Zelgadis _was_ on his way to his next stop, but mostly because it was somewhere to go to. He couldn't even remember the last time he had lived in one place. Sure, he could have accepted Amelia's offer to stay in Saillune, or found his way back to many of the other places he'd been, but he wouldn't know the first thing about the sedentary life.

"I see," the old man said, nodding. "Well, it's a good thing to see the world while you're young, and to not get too caught up into getting to your final destination. Life tends to happen on the way, whether you like it or not."

"Hmm." Zelgadis nodded. What could you say to a set of aphorisms?

"If you don't mind me asking, why are you traveling?"

"I'm trying to find-" Zelgadis stopped, his standard answer frozen on his lips. He covered this by taking another swig of tea, and tried to figure out something else to say. "I thought you said I shouldn't get too caught up with my final destination?"

The old man laughed. "I did say that. But what were you going to say?"

Zelgadis scowled and took another drink. The glass was nearly empty, and the way his mood was going south, he was starting to wonder if the man sold anything stronger than tea. "You're asking a lot of questions."

"I am," the old man agreed. "There's not much to do here until the evening shift arrives. It's been a slow day. Would you like another glass of tea?"

Zelgadis nodded, and the old man got up again. So, he was just the interesting diversion in an otherwise boring afternoon. He was surprised that the old man wasn't asking about Zelgadis's appearance, rather than where he was going. Surely that was more interesting, though it wasn't like Zelgadis would answer questions about that. He had long since gotten sick of not being believed about Rezo, so he had stopped using his grandfather's name in his story.

The old man returned with another, full, glass and a carafe of tea. "So, what were you going to say?"

Zelgadis rolled his eyes. "You don't drop questions, do you?" he commented. "You must annoy the hell out of your grandkids."

The old man shook his head. "No grandkids, only my nephew's daughter, and she isn't quite at the talking stage. Nice change of the subject though."

"Why are you being so persistent about this?" Zelgadis said, louder than he intended. He nearly banged his hand on the table for emphasis, but that could knock over his glass. "As far as you're concerned, I'm just some random stranger who is paying you for tea. That doesn't give you the right to pry into my life."

The old man drained his glass, then poured a second helping from the carafe. "My name is Iroh -- there, I introduced myself, so that means we are no longer strangers."

"Zelgadis." He gave a quick answer, so as to not have to listen to the inevitable 'and you are?'.

The old man, Iroh, gave Zelgadis a quick smile, but then sobered up as he sipped his tea. "But, it's not just boredom. You seem like you're troubled by something, and I thought that telling it to someone impartial might help."

Zelgadis sighed. "I don't really like airing out my dirty laundry to people." Well, except when he reacted to people calling him a monster. At least Iroh showed no interest in that. "But, fine. You might have noticed that I'm a chimera." Iroh made no attempt to fake surprise at this statement of the obvious, but merely nodded. "I didn't want to become one, but I've been this way for years now. Since the one who did this to me wasn't available," he continued, since 'was killed and had sealed his soul in a jar' was needlessly complicated, "I spent my time searching for a way to change myself back to human on my own."

"So you were going to tell me that when I asked?" Iroh guessed.

Zelgadis nodded. "It wasn't a secret or anything. But I found the person who did this to me," and he still wasn't naming names, "and he said he didn't know how to undo what he did, and that all his studies of chimerism lead him to believe that no one could."

"Like these biscuits." Iroh picked up the last one on the plate he brought out. "They have flour and leavening and butter in them, but you cannot get those back once you mix them together and bake them."

Zelgadis pointed at the biscuit. "You realize that if you take a bite out of that after you just compared it to me, it's going to look very creepy."

"Ah, such a waste of food. I'll be more careful in my comparisons in the future." Iroh set the biscuit down. "So, what are you going to do about it?"

"I haven't decided yet," Zelgadis answered. "I hadn't given much thought to what to do with my life without a goal." When he had been human, his goal had been stealing from bandits to fund Rezo's goodwill. And, knowing Rezo, probably more than a bit of the research that had brought him to experiment on Zelgais. Zelgadis could cut out the middleman, but, while Amelia might approve of thuggery for a good cause, Zelgadis wasn't sure if it was worth it, or if it would keep his interest. He wasn't sure what would keep his interest any more. He had amassed a specialized knowledge set devoted mostly towards research skills, folk legends, tomb-raiding and chimerism, with enough trivia to be a jack of all trades. Hard to apply that to other problems.

"Hmm," Iroh said, refilling his own glass. "None at all?"

"None at all," Zelgadis confirmed. "Seemed like there was no point making plans since I didn't know how long it would take." And now it was suddenly over, and he was at a loss.

"Reminds me a bit like my nephew," Iroh commented. "He wasn't always the best at planning ahead, so when he finally achieved a goal, he'd be at a loss. At best -- at worst, he'd discover that he had set a goal that he found out he didn't want."

"I should be so lucky," Zelgadis said. There was a bit of leaf stuck in the bottom of his glass, and he swirled it around, staring at it as it floated. "As is, I'm starting to wonder if I wasted years of my life."

"Not if you got things from the journey," Iroh said. "But perhaps it's time you did just travel for the sake of traveling. Find out what you want to do next by doing many things. Unless you think staying in one place would help."

"Maybe later." Zelgadis could always help repair the damage Zannafar left in Saillune, or help rebuild Taforashia. He knew he'd be welcome there, thanks to Amelia and Pocota. Or he could go back to the Outer World and see how Filia was settling in. For someone who had tried to let attachments to other people slide off, he had met a number of people who gave a damn about him enough to help him settle down if he wanted to.

"Then look for what next while you're traveling."

"Easier said than done." Zelgadis drained the glass again, and set it down.

"Most things worth doing are." Iroh answered.

The bell on the door rang, and Zelgadis looked up as a young couple came in. Iroh stood up, stacking empty glassware and the last biscuit back onto the tray. "Looks like my break is over."

Zelgadis nodded, reaching into his belt pouch to put several coins on the tray with the dishes. "Thank you for the tea. And the advice."

"Not a problem at all," Iroh responded. "Send me a letter sometime to tell me how it works out. I live in the apartment above the shop."

Zelgadis nodded. He just might. If he found what he was looking for, which actually seemed possible. Something to do was a lot more nebulous than 'a cure for my body', but it was something Zelgadis knew many people had found before him, and many would after. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Oh, and come back tomorrow, if you're still in town. We have some wonderful breakfast specials."


End file.
